


on firsthand experiences

by SongofThunder



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, Temporary Character Death, character study... kind of? honestly y'all should know my style by now, no beta we die like zagreus, wait do I really even need all these tags this is literally a game about dying over and over again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29528919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongofThunder/pseuds/SongofThunder
Summary: He thinks that must be what drowning feels like, that first death. One moment everything hurts; the next, his lungs and throat are filled with the tang of iron and all he can see is darkness.(Or, Zagreus’ first time. No, not that first time, the other one. The painful one. The first time he dies.)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	on firsthand experiences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glyph_of_wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glyph_of_wolves/gifts).



> alright so I'll be completely honest I had a vague outline of a _possible_ oneshot about this, because hades the game gives me many thoughts, but then, but _then_ , I found [this comic](https://samglyph.tumblr.com/post/643406838931619840/how-shocking-it-must-be-to-die-your-first-death) by [samglyph](https://samglyph.tumblr.com/) and I was like AH. THAT. THAT IS THE VIBE I AM CONSTANTLY THINKING ABOUT! and then I wrote exactly 777 words in less than an hour. thanks tumblr!
> 
> this VERY SHORT fic isn't an exact adaptation of this comic but even so here you go madam sir I am eternally grateful to you for kicking my ass into gear

He doesn’t make it far the first try. Obviously. He’d never really expected to get to the surface first time anyways. He knows he’s immortal in enough ways that matter; dying isn’t so much a roadblock as it is a temporary setback. The first try was never to get out. It was to  _ test the ropes _ . After all, Achilles gave him everything he could, but training in the same house with the same man over and over again can only do so much to prepare one for the real thing, and Zagreus knows he’ll be doing a lot more experimenting while he tries to claw his way out, room by fucking room.

Most of the first time is exactly what he expected. The weight of his blade is comforting in his palm. The Wretched aren’t so bad once you get used to them. The Olympians are far more accepting than he ever would have thought. And when you’ve grown up in a house full of gossiping shades, a few more scattered here or there isn’t much.

He thinks in a couple rooms, he might even make it out of Tartarus. The ichor coating his blade and the ashes settled on his clothes and the blood spattered over his skin serve as a physical tally—  _ look, you’re doing it, you did this. _ It grounds him.  _ You’re getting closer the more you try. _

Zagreus has never once felt so alive. It’s freeing in a way he never thought he’d know.

But it’s also  _ exhausting. _

He’s always been a god, give or take, who’s  _ meant _ for running, but he’s never run so far or so fast. He’s never been anywhere but the goddamn house. He’s never fought anything but Achilles and any unfortunate shades volunteered against their will to act as punching bags and at one point, Than, though Than had a lot more experience at the time and had basically just taken him out in one shot.

He’s in perfect shape, technically. His form is perfect. But it’s so much in such a short time, and the rooms take longer and longer to clear, and he’s flagging with every passing step. He’s also bruised and cut, and his right ear is ringing in a way he doesn’t think he’ll soon forget.

And when his entire body, heart and soul, is burning with exhaustion the way he is right now, it isn’t long before he makes a misstep.

He’s never died before. He’s grown up with death all around him, yes. (Figuratively, but also, Death himself is literally his childhood friend.) He’s listened to countless tales from shades about unfortunate deaths. Food poisoning and throats slit in their sleep and drowning at sea and sometimes just dying for no reason at all. Time after time after time. For mortals, apparently, death itself is mostly painless. Time’s supposed to slow down as they see it coming.

He doesn’t know if they were all wrong or if it’s just different for him, because when his own throat is torn out like it’s no sturdier than parchment, first of all, he never sees it coming, and second of all, it hurts like  _ hell. _

(How ironic. He’d think it were hilarious if it didn’t hurt so much.)

He thinks that must be what drowning feels like, that first death. One moment everything hurts; the next, his lungs and throat are filled with the tang of iron and all he can see is darkness. And of course, everything still hurts. His hands are sticky with the blood he never spilled, and when he opens his mouth to take a breath, all he can do is choke.

His throat, or what’s left of it, burns hotter than anything he’s ever felt before— and as a god who’s perpetually on fire, that’s saying quite a bit.

He wishes he could scream.

It feels like hours— feels like, though it must have been shorter than that— when the darkness in front of his eyes gives way to red, and he pulls himself free of the River Styx with a strangled kind of cough.

The shades part way as if announcing his arrival. The Styx drips off of him in oily crimson rivulets.

His blade is clean. His clothes are clean. The myriad of injuries he worked so hard to get are little more than memories now.

The House hasn’t so much as changed an iota since Zagreus left, hours upon hours ago. Like they never even noticed he was gone.

And when Zagreus reaches up towards his throat, just to make sure he even still has one, it really does feel like nothing had ever happened at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I think a lot about how it must feel for Zagreus to have all his progress erased every time. do you think it hurts? knowing that unless he succeeds, he'll never make any kind of mark? and if he fails- no, he can't fail, he can't allow that. this time will be different, he's sure of it.
> 
> come find me on tumblr at @explodingthunder or on twitter at @catatonicatnap and talk to me about hades!


End file.
